Fall Into Me (Into Me Series Book Three)

Chapter Twenty Eight - Check

I tighten my grasp around my stick, narrowing my eyes at the annoying ass desk jockey across from me. Yes, like the same guy as the first game that Jet ever came to. He smirks at me, as the ref blows his whistle. I bend my knees and get ready for the puck drop.

It hits the ice, both the desk jockey and I going for it. I gain possession, passing it over to Connor on my right. It hits Connor's stick with a satisfying snap. Connor takes it down the ice, passing it over to Riley. Riley passes it to Tom, who passes it back to me. I line up my shot and swing through with my signature slap shot. The shot alarm sounds as the puck sinks into the top left corner of the net.

That makes it 4-1 us at the near end of the first period.

I pump my fist as I shout excitedly, soon surrounded by my team and their cheers as they smack my helmet. I find Jet in the stands, cheering for me while jumping in place, a huge smile spread across her face. I smirk at her before shaking my head and focusing back on the game. My feet shift on the ice underneath me, shaving off layers and turning them into snow as I glide. My eyes flutter shut as I take in the feeling of the ice beneath my feet, my blades slicing through, the cool air dancing up my calves, and my jersey fluttering in the wind behind me. A contented sigh escapes my chest.

It feels so fucking good to be back in my element.

The ref, captain of the desk jockeys, and I meet again at center ice for another face-off. The captain stares me down, anger flourishing deep in his eyes. I can't stop myself from snickering at him, completely and totally unbothered by him. This clearly pisses him off further, his face turning a deep shade of crimson and his grip tightening on his stick. I can't help myself, he makes it so easy.

"You know the object of the game is to make shots on goal and actually get them inside the net, right?" I ask.
"Fuck you, Hart," he snarls, practically spitting at me.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I sigh, rolling my eyes. "Your mother said the same thing to me last night when I kicked her out of my bed."
"You mother fucke-"
"Boys!" the ref shouts.

I chuckle to myself as I bend my knees and get back into face-off position. I decide to go easy on the guy and let him get possession of the puck. Riley and Tom are great on defense and then we have Nyx in goal, who is a natural-born goalie. We can afford to let them have their little run around with the puck for once. There's a pass that Riley intercepts almost instantly, taking it down the ice toward the goal. Because Riley is arguably more oblivious than I am (says Jet), he doesn't notice the guy who's coming straight for him and gets checked into the glass. I cringe for the kid as he falls onto the ice, groaning loudly.

The guy who checked Riley takes the puck, passing it to another desk jockey. They take it back down the ice, where Heath is waiting for them. Heath chokes right up on them almost instantly, getting in the face of the desk jockey with the puck. Desk jockey passes it to the desk jockey captain who attempts a slap-shot on goal. Nyx snags the puck out of the air, adding yet another shot blocked to their ledger. It's kinda freaky how much of a natural they are in goal. We were just fucking around one day and decided to see how they did and it's been history ever since. Which is a good thing, I should add, because after Tony left, Hayes filled in as goalie temporarily and that was a fucking shit show.

I mean, don't get me wrong, Hayes has incredible aim and athletic ability, but literally, all of that disappears as soon as you get him in goal. He's fine when he's on defense, but other than that, you would think he has never caught a single thing in his life. Nothing wrong with that, he's a SEAL, not an NHL player, but it was a hot mess for the team.

There's a call for offsides against us that isn't warranted, Connor almost immediately getting in the ref's face to argue. This does nothing but get him a major ten-minute penalty for misconduct and the desk jockeys a powerplay. Not to mention, there are only two minutes left in the first period, so we will start off the next period down a man. Heath hops behind the bench as Jordan takes his place, pushing himself over the wall to get into position. Captain of the desk jockeys narrows his eyes at me yet again, raising a challenging eyebrow at me. I raise mine back at him.